Abducted (Powell Book 2)

by Bill Ward

  Abducted

  Bill Ward

  Copyright © 2015 Bill Ward

  All rights reserved.

  ISBN-13: 978-1514693704

  ISBN-10: 1514693704

  CHAPTE R ONE

  Powell was on a morning flight to Bucharest, uncertain if he was going to be able to locate Dimitry, who he was intent on eliminating. Powell was assuming the role of human pest controller. Dimitry had murdered his daughter and Powell believed eliminating was the correct word to describe his intentions towards Dimitry. He didn’t think of it in terms of murder, although the authorities would consider it so, but of removing a vile and evil menace, who had repeatedly proven he did not deserve to live.

  Powell stretched his legs and was grateful for the aisle seat, as at six feet two inches tall, any other seat made flying a difficult experience, especially travelling economy class. It had been a life changing few weeks, in which he had lost his daughter Bella, stabbed to death on a Brighton street by Dimitry. She was a fledgling police officer and had stumbled across a young Romanian girl called Afina, who was fleeing from Dimitry’s clutches. Afina was of a similar age to his daughter and had been trafficked into Brighton by Dimitry and his friends, to work as a sex slave.

  Powell had helped Afina escape and temporarily forge a new life but Dimitry was not willing to leave alive a witness to his murderous actions. He had repeatedly threatened the lives of Afina’s mother and sister, leaving Powell with no option but to take action.

  Powell had grown close to Afina and her family, and made Afina a promise before leaving England, he would only return once her family’s safety was assured. He was a man who always kept his promises and the only possible way to guarantee that safety was to eliminate Dimitry.

  That Powell was able to contemplate terminating Dimitry’s life, was the result of his having worked for MI5 in his twenties, when he was a field operative used to dangerous situations and the need to terminate with extreme prejudice. That had been the in vogue terminology in those days, which now seemed a bit of a bizarre way of describing government authorised assassination.

  At least the intensive training he’d received in the distant past was paying off. Although twenty years away from the business, Powell had recently discovered he had lost none of his capabilities. In fact, having become a second Dan black belt in kickboxing, his skills had probably increased not waned over the years.

  What had changed was his views on the use of extreme force. It no longer came as second nature to end the life of any human being and in the case of Dimitry, it was very much a last resort, when all other attempts to keep within the law had failed.

  Powell spent some of the flight thinking about his feelings for Afina. She was twenty two so at forty nine years of age, Powell was old enough to be her father and then some. Their relationship had kicked off in an unconventional manner, with his pretending to be someone called Danny and paying her to have sex, in the early days of his search for Dimitry. Despite the strange beginning, Afina had recently suggested by way of some passionate kisses that she wanted more from him than friendship. He was still undecided. There was a definite physical attraction on his part and he also admired her courage but there were lingering doubts about their age difference in particular.

  She would surely want children at some point and he could not contemplate starting a new family. Neither did he want a few good years with her only to then be kicked into touch for someone younger, as the age difference became too great an obstacle. She would still be in her thirties when he was drawing a pension!

  There was also a part of Powell which was reluctant to allow anyone to get too close. After the death of his daughter and in danger of wallowing in self-pity, Powell had made the decision to assist those whom the law had failed, in order to give some meaning and direction to his life. It was his way of honouring his daughter’s memory. It would undoubtedly be necessary sometimes to take the law into his own hands, which would be dangerous for him and potentially anyone close to him.

  Powell was keen not to spend too much time finding Dimitry, as he had postponed a meeting with Angela Bennett, who was seeking his help with recovering her children from her ex-husband in Saudi Arabia. Abdullah Rashid had married Bennett while working at the Saudi embassy in London and they had been married for eleven years when he took the children to Saudi Arabia, for their annual visit to his parents. The day before he was due to return, he had phoned her to say neither he or the children would be returning to the UK. The children would be living with him in future.

  She had tried the legal route to gain access to her children but despite the English Courts ruling in her favour, they had no jurisdiction in Saudi Arabia, where thy didn’t recognise the rights of a mother or it appeared, women in general. Desperate to reclaim her children and having exhausted all other possibilities, she had turned to Powell for assistance. The Bennett woman seemed like a prime candidate to help but first he needed to dispose of Dimitry.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Powell had booked into the same hotel as on his previous visit to Bucharest and though it was late, he decided he would visit Dimitry’s club. He had gone over in his mind every detail of the events since he had last seen Dimitry and reasoned there should be no solid reason for Dimitry not to still believe he was Danny and could be trusted.

  Danny had been the pseudonym Powell used to befriend Dimitry, infiltrating his sex trafficking organisation and leading him into the trap, which led to his arrest. However, Powell had ensured it looked as if Danny had simply been lucky and escaped arrest. The only problem would be if Dimitry had spoken with his friend Victor, in the small window of time after escaping from prison and before Powell strangled the life out of Victor. It seemed unlikely as Dimitry would have been preoccupied with fleeing the country. It was a risk Powell was prepared to take and in any event he still intended to be very cautious.

  It was undoubtedly Dimitry’s absurd perception that all his misfortune was due to Afina, rather than his own actions, which was why he had gone after her family. Powell knew there was nothing subtle about Dimitry. Someone had upset him so he was prepared to go to any lengths for revenge. In some ways, as an adversary, it made him easier to read and predictable.

  He would have heard about the death of Victor, at the hands of the father of the policewoman he’d killed, but there were no photos of Powell anywhere on the internet to identify him as the same person Dimitry knew as Danny. Powell had never used any of the social media sites, which all involved adding photos or profiles, just in case someone from his past still wanted to locate him. In fact, he had always been averse generally to appearing in photos.

  His days in MI5 had created enemies and there were men who would be happy to see him dead. There was no point in making it easy for them to find him. Bella thought he was old fashioned and anti-technology but really he was just being cautious.

  Powell was certainly apprehensive as the taxi dropped him off at the end of the street. He’d thought through what he was going to say if Dimitry was in the club but considered it more likely he was hiding somewhere else. Surely if he was at his club the local police would have arrested him by now, as an international warrant for his arrest had been issued.

  Powell walked slowly, hoping the promise he would always be welcome at the club, still held good. He stood in the doorway and looked around to see who was present and barely had time to take in the scene when the friendly bouncer with the goatee beard, who he remembered from his previous visit, came rushing up.

  “Danny, it’s good to see you again. No one told me you were coming.”

  “Actually, I’m not expected. I just came by on the off chance Dimitry was here.”

  The bouncer looked around as if ch
ecking no one could overhear their conversation. He leaned in closer and spoke quietly. “I’m afraid he’s not here now but he was earlier. He’s keeping a low profile.”

  “Can someone let him know I’m here? I have no way of contacting him.” Powell had a mobile number from Dimitry’s time in Brighton but wasn’t really surprised it no longer worked.

  “Come downstairs and have a drink. Bogdan is here and he will be able to get a message to Dimitry.”

  Powell followed him down the stairs to the private part of the club where lap dancing was available, hoping he wasn’t walking into a trap. He recognised Bogdan sitting with a couple of other men he didn’t know.

  “Look who is here,” the bouncer announced.

  “Danny, it is good to see you again,” Bogdan said warmly, having taken a second to register the presence of Powell. “This is a big surprise.”

  Powell was happy with the friendly greeting. It augured well for Dimitry not having discovered the truth. “Good to see you again, Bogdan. Life in Brighton was becoming too dangerous so I could think of nowhere better to visit for a holiday, until it calms down back home.”

  “As you probably know, Dimitry also had problems in England.”

  “Yes, I was with him when he was arrested. I only just managed to escape.”

  “You were lucky.”

  “I think it was Dimitry they really wanted. I am just a small fish by comparison.”

  “I will see Dimitry tomorrow morning and tell him you are here.”

  “I’m staying at the Grand hotel again so ask him to give me a call and we can arrange to meet.”

  “I will. He left earlier with a couple of girls, otherwise I would call him now but I don’t think he wants to be disturbed,” Bogdan explained, smiling broadly. “We must have a drink. What would you like?”

  “I’ll have a shot of Tuica and a beer, please.” Powell had grown quite attached to the national drink of Tuica on his last visit. Made from plums it tasted a bit like vodka.

  Bogdan pulled up a chair for Powell and signalled for a waitress to take their order. “Would you like some girls for tonight?” he asked.

  “Not tonight thanks. I’m very tired, which also means I’m just going to have a couple of drinks and then get some sleep. Perhaps tomorrow we can party properly?”

  CHAPTER THREE

  Powell awoke at seven and ate a large breakfast. He could imagine how the condemned man felt who ordered his last meal. He would soon find out whether or not Dimitry considered him a friend. He tried to keep negative thoughts from his mind and put in a call to Afina to let her know everything was progressing positively, at least for the time being. She had made him promise to keep in regular contact as otherwise she would fear the worst.

  He doubted he would hear from Dimitry very early so he intended to spend some time on his laptop, researching the Bennett case. One of the factors which had so far stopped him finally committing to help Angela Bennett, was his lack of knowledge about the Middle East in general and Saudi Arabia in particular. He only knew what he occasionally read in the newspapers and most of that simply focused on the latest atrocity committed by ISIS. He wanted to learn more about everyday life.

  It was mid-morning when Powell heard from Dimitry, who suggested they meet for some lunch. Dimitry was friendly and Powell could detect no obvious cause for concern in either what he said or his tone of voice. Then again, if Dimitry was setting a trap, it was exactly how he would want to come across on the phone. Powell was going to tread warily, he had no weapon or backup so would need to stay alert. At least Dimitry was not aware of his kickboxing skills.

  Powell was waiting in the hotel reception when Dimitry entered.

  “Good to see you, Danny,” Dimitry said with a broad smile.

  “And you, Dimitry,” Powell replied, shaking hands. “You look very different.” Dimitry’s full beard had been replaced by just a stubble.

  “I thought it best to change my appearance when I escaped from your English courtroom. The beard was too recognisable.”

  “So where do you suggest we eat? Much as I love your club, somewhere different would be good. I haven’t seen much of your city.” Powell was keen not to have lunch on Dimitry’s home territory, surrounded by his henchmen.

  “I know a very nice restaurant not far from here. It serves very good Romanian food and has an excellent selection of Tuica! We can get drunk and celebrate our good fortune to escape your English police.”

  “Sounds like a great idea,” Powell agreed. He had no intention of getting drunk but would welcome Dimitry having an excess of alcohol, which might inhibit his reactions.

  Dimitry led the way back out to his Mercedes and climbed in the driver’s seat. “I didn’t think you could drive,” Powell joked. Dimitry had always previously used a driver. “Where is Bogdan today?”

  “He had some family business that needed his attention. Anyway, I like to drive sometimes.”

  “Driving has lost all pleasure in England, there are too many traffic cameras and restrictions.”

  “We are lucky, we don’t have many cameras in Romania. The best driving though is on the German autobahns. That can be real fun.”

  Powell wondered if Dimitry planned to still drive after lunch, when he would inevitably be drunk. Powell would insist on taking a taxi back to the hotel even if it caused offence. He wasn’t going to end up as a traffic accident statistic in a foreign country.

  During the ten minute journey, Dimitry recounted how he escaped from the courtroom and returned to Romania. He had taken the Eurostar to Paris and then a flight to Bucharest using a false passport.

  “Within twenty four hours of appearing in your court, I was back here drinking a cold beer.”

  “And a few Tuicas, no doubt.”

  “Yes, it was a good night and after a few drinks, I may tell you about the pleasure I had with three very beautiful young girls.”

  “Three? You are a greedy man, Dimitry.” Powell couldn’t think of anything worse than hearing about Dimitry’s excesses and how he had mistreated some unfortunate girls.

  “We are men. What else are we to do? I did the girls a service, introducing them to what real men enjoy. It will serve them well in later life when they are trying to keep their husbands satisfied.”

  “I’m sure their husbands will be eternally grateful.” Powell wondered if Dimitry really believed the crap he uttered.

  They parked and two minutes later arrived outside a restaurant called Arcade Cafe. Powell realised they were in the centre of the old town so probably not far from Dimitry’s club.

  “This is a fun place in the evenings,” Dimitry revealed. “They always have Karaoke and it’s a great place to find girls.”

  As Dimitry led the way into the café, Powell found himself in a very atmospheric lounge area. As well as the wrought iron chairs and wooden tables, there were chandeliers, lamps and paintings creating a warm environment. Powell could tell the café had a vibe which would attract the young and make it a hunting ground for Dimitry and his friends.

  Dimitry led the way downstairs to a large restaurant and bar area with sofas, bookcases and more vintage paintings on the brick walls. It was definitely trendy and quite unique.

  “I hope you’re hungry,” Dimitry said, once they were seated. “They do a great steak.”

  “I could eat a horse,” Powell replied.

  “I don’t think they have horse on the menu,” Dimitry replied with a grin.

  “In that case I’ll have a steak as well.”

  Food and drinks were ordered and then Dimitry asked, “How long do you plan to stay in Bucharest?”

  “I’m not sure but at least a few days. I can’t go back to Brighton easily so when I do go back, I will probably head for London. Or maybe I will go somewhere hot for a year like Spain.”

  “I don’t think I will be visiting England again for a very long time,” Dimitry voiced with an air of resignation. “Pity because I really like England.”

&n
bsp; “By the way, how is Stefan?” Powell inquired.

  “He is bored waiting for his trial but he will be found not guilty.”

  Powell was surprised by Dimitry’s confidence about the outcome of the trial. “The police must have several witnesses. Why are you so sure he will be found not guilty?”

  “We will have words with the girls and their families. They won’t testify. And for insurance we will pay some of the jurors to make the right decision.”

  “Good. I like Stefan.” Powell wondered if Dimitry would really find it as easy as he thought to manipulate Stefan’s trial. He was going to have to warn the police.

  The waitress delivered their drinks and Powell wasn’t altogether surprised to see Dimitry had ordered a bottle of Tuica not just a glass each.

  “To Stefan,” Powell toasted.

  “Stefan,” Dimitry responded touching glasses.

  They downed their shots in one and Dimitry quickly poured refills. As he raised his glass to propose another toast, his phone rang. He looked at the number and answered, “Hello Bogdan.” Then he listened for a minute before saying, “Good.” He returned the phone to his pocket and once again raised his glass. “Tonight you must again be my guest at the club for dinner and after I am going to provide some special entertainment.”

  Powell thought it highly likely the entertainment would include some girls. He needed to get Dimitry on his own or at least away from the likes of Bogdan, he wondered if this entertainment would afford the opportunity.

  After a great meal, Powell declined Dimitry’s offer of a lift back to his hotel, saying he needed to stretch his legs and wanted to have a look around the old town. In truth he didn’t want Dimitry driving him anywhere after the quantity of alcohol he had consumed. Powell would love to turn up at the club in the evening and discover Dimitry had been killed in an accident. That would make life so much easier.